Between The Pages
by BitterRomantic
Summary: Isabella Swan is a legacy, the last child born to the Swan family and, as such, she has a responsibility to join the family business. But when trouble ensues regardless of her choices, her life is put in danger again and she must choose between what is right and what is easy. And for Bella, only one thing is certain. She wishes she had never gone back in time. Post NM. AU.


**Title: **Pages In Between

**Author: **BitterRomantic

**Rating:** M/NC-17

**Category:** Fantasy/ Friendship/ Family

**Pairing: **Bella/Edward

**Summary:** Isabella Swan is a legacy, the last child born to the Swan family and, as such, she has a responsibility to join the family business. But when trouble ensues regardless of her choices, her life is put in danger again and she must choose between what is right and what is easy. And for Bella, only one thing is certain. She wishes she had never gone back in time. Post NM. AU.

**Disclaimer:** Text copyright- BitterRomantic. Based on the characters in the novel _Twilight_, by Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Prologue**

Sitting down in the familiar open plan library that I had become so accustomed to, I pulled my journal out of my bag. I ran my fingers over the now worn leather of the front cover, feeling the indent of the Swan family coat of arms that was so delicately hand painted in gold and red making it stand out brightly against the black leather. Of course, all the paint was faded but I could still remember the bright colours so vividly in my mind. I slowly opened my journal, flicking the brass clasp open with my thumb before turning to the last page and picking up the swan feather quill on the desk before me. I had been drawing close to the end of my story and my life for a while, and I knew what was about to happen. But I was prepared. I was surprised to find that I wasn't scared or anxious, but instead I could feel strength and bravery wash through my whole body as if it were cleansing each of my cells and washing away any uncertainty. Because there was no room for it at a time like this, especially when a member of my family was in danger.

And so, I poured my heart into my final words, hoping beyond all hopes that one day my story would inspire someone else to be brave.

_My dearest descendant, _

I wrote in my neatest handwriting, listening to the sounds of the quill scratching against the paper.

_I felt like beginning my final letter as I started my first one. With a quote from a famous man. This time, Abraham Lincoln. _

'_In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.'_

_And normally I'd hate to agree with just about anyone, you know that I do, but I do agree with him. Because although our lives are typically long and painful, it wasn't until I met him for a second time that I realised what life really was. It's not a number of minutes or days all wrapped into one bundle, it's making someone smile because you can or stopping someone from being hit by a bus because their great granddaughter will go on to cure a minor disease that will save forty lives. The smallest of things can have the biggest effect, and if you're reading this final letter then you'll know all about it. You'll know all about how I met the Cullen's and how it has led me to do so much more. How it led me to do what I'd always done and must always be done. _

_And I was going to tell him about all of this. I swear I was. But the time never seemed right. In all honesty, I was surprised that Charlie hadn't let slip in his thoughts over the years but then again I doubt that he often had the opportunity to listened to my father's thoughts before I moved to town. But I suppose I'm not explaining myself all that well, but you can't really blame me. I'm a little preoccupied at the moment. As you can see, this is my final page. And although many of my ancestors have gone on to live ordinary lives after this, I know that that will not be the case for me. Because I'm about to die. So I think it's understandable that I'm a little distracted. _

_But now I'm dying in the place of someone I love, just eighteen months after my life really began, and I can't think of a better way to go. Because now they will know how much I love them. This one self-less action will forever be a reminder that they were everything to me. There's something noble about it, even if it the most permanent and damaging form of self-sacrifice. _

_I must apologise, I appear to be blathering on and you're probably only reading this to find out what happened and not all about my feelings. _

_So I'll get on with it, because I don't have much time left. This is my last page, so it must be the end. Because they're never really wrong about these things, are they? Whoever they are. I had thought that I would know who they were at the end, but apparently not._

_All my love,_

_Isabella Marie Swan_

_Born: 13th September 1987 Died: 27__th__ March 2008 Aged: 20_

**Chapter One**

Charlie had had enough; I could see it in his eyes as he glanced up at me over his breakfast. Scrambled eggs and bacon, as I made him most mornings. Something had been eating at him for weeks, building up in his mind as he tried to gain the courage to talk to me about it. Of course I would never bring it up. It was no doubt something about cheering up or going to see friends, etcetera, etcetera…

But I was perfectly happy being completely numb, well not happy but I definitely preferred numb to the alternative. Ever since _he_ and his family had left, it was like a large hole had opened up in my chest and left me feeling hollow. Empty. Unsurprisingly it reflected the same on my outer self. I had caught my appearance in a reflection on a car window the day before and even I had to admit that I looked like a zombie.

As I chased a piece of now soggy cereal around my bowl with the spoon, I watched out of the corner of my eye for Charlie to finish his food. Unfortunately, today was a weekend, and Charlie had the day off of work. These were never good days. Charlie, who normally wouldn't hover, seemed to be permanently attached to me. I could understand that he was worried about me, he and my mother, but the hovering wasn't really making a difference. I would still complete all the same tasks as usual, but with him worrying over my shoulder. It usually resulted in my wall of pain breaking down with the guilt that I felt and my nightly nightmares becoming more graphic and painful.

As Charlie set his cutlery down, I snatched up his plate and hurried over to the sink, sliding the plate into the already waiting soapy water. I quickly extracted the remaining milk from my bowl, pouring it down the drain in the other sink, and let it join my father's plate in the sink. I began to wash them carefully, meticulously, trying to ignore the sounds of Charlie sighing and getting up to join me in the kitchen. I tried to focus, watching the dirt scrub away from the surface of the frying pan with each little move of the brush. If only it were that easy with emotional mess. I was setting down the frying pan with the dishware, on the drying board, when Charlie spoke up.

"Bells?" he said quietly before letting out a grunting cough and starting again. "Bells, I can do that for you." I knew he was trying to be kind, but he really wasn't helping.

"It's fine Dad, I've got it," I said in reply, not managing to make my voice bubbly like I'd wanted it. Instead it had come out flat and almost bored.

"Bella," he tried again. "Bella, I can do my own damn washing up." His voice was only tinged with anger, and I knew that it was falsified.

"I know, Dad," I said in reply, not bothering to say anymore.

He let out a sigh. "Bella will you just stop for a moment and look at me?" he asked and my hands stopped moving in the water. I set down the whisk and glass bowl in the sink and slowly removed my hands from the water, drying them on a towel before turning to face him. As I looked up into his dark brown eyes, I felt a flicker a familiarity burst through the pain before it died out. I hadn't inherited many features from my dad, only two really. My brown eyes, and my brown hair.

"What's up Dad?" I asked, not really wanting to know, but wanting to sound polite.

He gave me a calm, reserved smile, but when I didn't return it he let out a sigh. I knew he was having trouble with whatever he was about to say and I desperately wanted to leave the room. Leave the conversation.

"I was thinking, that maybe you'd like to spend some time with your Grandma Swan," he said in a slow, even voice. I stared at him. Grandma Swan wasn't actually my real grandmother, who had died when I was just a baby. She was more commonly known as Adele, and she was the woman that had married my grandfather sometime after my sixth birthday and forced me to wear a bright yellow summer dress at her wedding. Even twelve years later I could distinctly remember her purple rinse and that smelt of peppermint and tobacco. I also remembered the terrible chocolate cake that she would send to Charlie on almost every holiday or occasion. I resisted a shudder.

"Grandma Swan…" I said slowly, trying to figure out where he was going with this. If Grandma Swan was coming over then I would have to find some school work that needed redoing or find some household chores that hadn't been done.

"Yeah," he said simply, not answering the questions that were currently bouncing around the inside of my head. "I leave you alone too much, it'll be good for you to have a female role model." He paused and stared at me, probably waiting for me to argue or respond in any way.

"That'll be good," I said, hoping to appease him slightly. "How longs she staying for?"

Charlie blinked in response, and as he opened his mouth to speak the doorbell rang. He turned, almost reluctantly and I could have swore I heard him mutter under his breath as he walked away to answer it. It sounded like he said "perfect timing," or something similar, but I brushed it off quickly. It was no secret that I wasn't the best company, and I was grateful that Charlie even tried.

I didn't turn back to continue the washing up as he greeted whoever was at the front door in his gruff but friendly tough guy voice, and instead I just leant back against the cupboard and stared at a square of white flooring. It wasn't until I heard the sweet, strong voice of Adele Swan that I looked up.

"Isabella!" she greeted me fondly, and my gaze shifted up to her slightly wrinkled face, bright blue eyes and kind smile.

"Grandma Swan," I said, attempting a smile of my own but it probably came off more of a grimace, as I pushed myself off of the cupboard and stepped into her open arms. I wasn't usually much of a hugger, but there was something about Adele Swan that made you feel like everything in the world would be ok. And as she wrapped her wool bound arms around me, I inhaled the familiar scent and felt myself truly relax for the first time since they had left.

"You've lost weight," Grandma Swan mumbled into my shoulder, and I felt tears form in my eyes. I blinked them away quickly and pulled back, apologising. Adele looked at me, and I could see the worry in her eyes. She turned abruptly and raised an eyebrow to Charlie. "Be a dear and make us some tea, Isabella and I need to have a little chat in the living room," she said in her normal no nonsense tone and I almost smiled. Almost.

As she turned to leave the kitchen, Charlie shot me a look as if to say 'mother's right?' and my lip twitched. Although Adele Swan wasn't biologically related to either of us, she had always been family. Even before my grandfather had married her. In many ways, Adele reminded me of my own mother, Renee. They had the same youthful spirit and kind face that made people trust them implicitly but unlike Renee, Adele was more mature and caring. Not that my mother was uncaring, but she was easily distracted and somewhat childish.

Charlie stared at me, noticing my amusement and it made me feel guilty. The shock on his face was evident and it pained me that I had caused him so much distress that he was now shocked when I was showing even the slightest amount of emotion.

"Isabella?" Adele called and I left the kitchen quickly. It was exactly eleven steps between the kitchen and the living room, and not far enough a distance in my opinion. At least not in circumstances like these. Eleven steps wasn't nearly enough time for me to mentally prepare myself for the onslaught of questions about _him_ that was most likely coming. Then, taking into account my rush to get out of the kitchen my time had been cut in half. And as I sat down on the brown leather couch next to her, I found myself chiding my stupidity. I should have taken longer and not rushed to put myself into this position. A position where I would surely break down. Of course, no amount of planning or preparation could prepare me for questions about them but that wasn't really the point.

"So, Isabella," my grandmother began, and I found myself holding my breath. I honestly didn't want to talk about this but my normal quick witted, intelligent self seemed to be absent and I was stuck without a word to say to dissuade her from approaching this topic. "How is school going?" I froze. School?

"School is fine," I said warily, breathing out slowly, and wondering why she hadn't just jumped into the heart of the problem like usual. And then it hit me. Maybe Charlie hadn't told her, maybe Grandma Swan was just here to visit with no intervention planned. I took in a shallow breath and waited for her next question, looking down at my hands on my lap. I could feel her bright blue eyes on me as she waited for me to elaborate, but I wouldn't. In all honesty, I hadn't been paying much attention in school but there wasn't a lot they could do about it. I completed my homework, and I didn't disrupt class so what could they honestly complain about.

"What about your friends, how are they?" she said and I swallowed deeply. Gone, was my immediate thought and images of Alice and _him_ flashed through my brain. I mentally shook myself, thinking about them would surely make me break down.

"They're fine," I replied, forcing myself to think of Angela and her boyfriend, Ben. Adele nodded and took hold of my hand in hers. It was soft to the touch, and felt almost frail and it shocked me. I had never thought of her as frail before but here it was, her skin tanned like usual but almost paper thin. I looked up into her eyes and found them flooded with tears. "Grandma, what is it?" I asked immediately, forgetting my own pain and suffering. She smiled and it was an odd combination. She didn't look sad, but the tears in her eyes made them glitter.

"Nothing, my dear," she said and Charlie chose that moment to enter with three steaming cups. I inwardly cursed myself for not going to store. I knew that we only had Earl Grey tea in, and I hated the taste of bergamot. I shuddered and looked down at my hands again.

"Thank you Charlie dear," Adele said, no doubt as he handed her the cup of tea. I closed my eyes and pictured him smiling at his step-mother who was easily only fifteen years older than he.

"Bells?" he asked and I looked up to see him holding out a mug to me. I took it, and sipped the liquid without breathing in the smell. But what I got wasn't what I was expecting. It wasn't the thin, sickly green-brown liquid that I was expecting and it was instead a deep, rich, thick, foamy liquid that no one could resist. I licked my lips and looked down into the mug. Hot chocolate. I looked up at my father, who had taken a seat in one of the two matching arm chairs and I felt grateful towards him. He smiled at me, and I knew he had remembered my aversion to the popular liquid.

"Thank you," I said softly to him, before taking another sip of the delicious beverage. I hadn't even realised that he knew how to make hot chocolate, especially considering his lack of knowledge of most kitchen appliances….like the stove. A memory flashed through my mind of Charlie during one of my visits to Forks when I was a child.

"_I may not be able to use the stove, but I can push the buttons on a microwave like a monkey," he said sticking his tongue out at me as I sat opposite him on the table. A seven year old version of me giggled softly and his eyes lit up. He pulled the cup of coffee up to his lips and let out a loud noise. I laughed harder and he continued to make monkey sounds until I could barely breathe._

I took a long sip of the drink again and felt it warm and sooth every muscle in my torso. We all sat in silence for a moment, enjoying our drinks, before Adele spoke up.

"So Charlie, how's work going?" she said, sipping her tea, and I got the distinct impression that she was avoiding talking about something. It was unlike her.

"It's good," he said, glancing at me and I felt the wall of emotion slide back into place as my face fell blank. I stared at the bubbly liquid as the steam rose up and bounced off my face, the warmth filling my pours and nostrils. I breathed in deeply, vaguely aware of conversation around me but not paying attention. I briefly enjoyed thinking about nothing in particular except the chocolately liquid in front of me, until I was snapped out of it by my name being called.

"Bella?" the voice said and I shook my head and looked up. Both Charlie and Adele were looking at me and I mentally chided myself for not paying attention.

"Sorry, lost in thought," I muttered and took a large sip of the drink, frowning when the cooled liquid hit my tongue. I guess I had been staring at it for longer than I had thought.

"It's not a problem dear," Adele said, smiling at me briefly before looking down at her own mug. "I was just asking if you'd packed yet."

Packed? Packed for what? I thought to myself. I couldn't even fathom why I would need to pack anything. I had already turned down all Charlie's attempts to send me back to Arizona, and I thought he had gotten the message that I wanted to stay in Forks. I looked up at him and frowned when I saw him looking guilty. "Packed?" I finally asked out loud, my gaze shifting between my father and his step-mother. "Packed for what?"

"To come visit me in Idaho of course," she said with an excited smile. I felt my heart clench. What was left of it at least. Honestly, I couldn't think of anything worse than being stuck in Adele Swan's hometown of Wallace, Idaho which was even smaller than Forks. Last time I had checked, the former mining town had a population of around seven hundred people and all of its buildings were on the National Register of Historic Places. Even the brothel which had closed in 1988 was included on the list.

"Grandma….I don't think that it would be a good idea…" I said, but she cut me off.

"Nonsense darling, what you need is something to keep you busy so you can begin to heal," she said in a kind voice that made my heart ache. And for a moment, I felt like arguing with her. Arguing that I couldn't leave Forks. I couldn't just leaving the only reminder of _him_ that I had. Because he was all that I had ever wanted, and became the one thing that I needed. "Besides, it's only temporary. You'll be back here in a few weeks."

"I don't know," I said, trying to form an argument in my head that would convince not only Charlie to let me stay, but also Grandma Swan.

"Yes you do, but you're coming anyway," Adele said and raised an eyebrow at Charlie. "I'm prepared to take you kicking and screaming like a child if I have to, but you are coming. Charlie go upstairs and pack Bella's things, please." Her eyes turned to Bella and stayed there, staring, and Charlie looked between his daughter and step-mother nervously. Bella felt all her will power rush out of her and she nodded. Her heart clung to Forks like a vine around a tree, but she would be back in a few weeks and that brought her a little comfort at least.

"I'll do it," Bella said quietly, setting her half empty cup down on the coffee table quickly before hurrying up the stairs. The last thing she wanted was for Charlie to rifle through her clothing. There were just some things that no father should see.

And then I packed. I wasn't really sure what to put in my bag, but I didn't really stop to think about it. I threw in pairs of jeans, socks, converse, t-shirts, underwear. Anything that would fit in the case. It was hard to decide what to bring but I didn't have much of a choice. I knew very well that if presented with no alternative, Adele Swan would drag my ass with her to Idaho, kicking and screaming, but even so it made me pause for just a moment before zipping up the bag. I longed for something of Edward's that I could take with me. A little reminder that he was real, even if my shattered heart and the plunging hole he left behind should be enough.

As I zipped close the bag, my breathing became erratic and I gripped my hands into fists and wrapped them around my waist to try and hold myself together but it did little to no good. I was falling apart at the thought of leaving the only thing I had left, the destination of almost all of my memories with him. It was the only reminder that he was real. Because even the hole he left behind in my chest was beginning to lose its meaning. It was just empty.

As I walked down the stairs, I could hear Charlie and Adele talking in hushed voices but they silenced when the step I was standing on let out a loud creek. In a way I was glad that they knew I was there, as I continued to descend the staircase, because then I wouldn't have to hear about how much Charlie was worried about me. Or at least I assumed that was what they were talking about. Of course, I knew he was worried but hearing about it was another matter. I honestly didn't need the guilt of it.

"Ready to go love?" Adele said in an uncommonly sympathetic voice. Or at least it was uncommon for her. I winced at the term of endearment and nodded slowly, watching my feet. I heard them both stand and walk towards the front door, and I walked slowly behind them trying to keep my breathing steady. I had to keep reminding myself that I would be back soon enough, but my thoughts were doing little to reassure me.

All too soon, we were all stood out by Grandma Swan's car and Charlie was swinging back on his heels awkwardly. I had set6 my bag down on the backseat of the old, familiar Nissan 300zx and tried desperately to keep the tears out of my eyes and the sadness from my expression. It wasn't the first time that Charlie had tried to ship me off but by the looks of how he was acting, he had obviously never really considered what he would say if I relented. And I don't think I was even that upset to be leaving my father, not like I had been to leave my mother behind, it was more that I felt like I would be leaving part of myself behind and it was more predominant than before.

I turned my gaze back to the old blue car that Adele Swan had bought in '96, and wondered if she loved it like I loved my truck. Because despite the fact that it was rusting slightly, the paint peeling and that it had several dents, she had never purchased a new car.

Charlie coughed uncomfortably and stepped forward to give his step-mother a hug. I looked over at them from the corner of my eye and was momentarily distracted by the love I saw there. Adele Swan had no children of her own but I knew that she loved Charlie as if he were, even if he was a fully grown man.

"See you soon Charlie," she whispered in his ear as she pulled back from the hug and Charlie smiled, nodded as his moustache twitched at the corners. A pang hit my heart at the sight, having not seen it for months and even before that it had been rare. Charlie turned to me and his smile faded, worry flooding his eyes. I forced myself to look down and hugged him quickly so I didn't have to look at his face.

"Do I have to go?" I asked, childishly, even though I knew the answer. Charlie nodded, his chin resting on top of my head as his arms wrapped tightly around me. I could feel that there were probably a hundred things he wanted to say, but a few that he actually would. If anything, Charlie was a man of few words and in this moment I was glad. I'm not sure I could deal with anymore guilt than I already felt.

As I pulled back, I looked around at the front of the house to try to look at anything other than Charlie. And that was when the tree outside my bedroom window caught my eye. It looked much the same as any other tree, but it would always be special to me. I walked over to it slowly and picked up a broken twig from the ground. It was small and Y shaped, and was just what I needed. A reminder of Forks, and a reminder of _him_.

I walked back over to the car, ignoring the curious looks that Adele and Charlie gave me, and climbed into the passenger side. I kept my gaze staring out of the front windscreen, twirling the stick in my fingers, and I wondered briefly if Charlie and Renee were right. That maybe this would be good for me, to get away for a while, but I didn't let the thought progress any further. The last thing I needed was a full blown melt down, in front of my father's step-mother who was forcing me to go to some town in the middle of nowhere. Of course, you could argue that I already was in a town in the middle of nowhere, but my point remained the same.

I briefly heard Adele open the driver's side door and slide into her seat, shutting it behind her and turning on the engine, but I wasn't really snapped out of my thoughts until the radio came to life with _Marchin On_ by _OneRepublic_, a song that I recognised immediately but honestly didn't want to hear. It wasn't that I hated music or even the song, I just hated the emotion behind music in general. I had been working so hard not to feel anything at all and music seemed to undo all of my hard work within seconds. My fingers twitched to turn the music off, but they didn't move from my lap. As the car drove off down the street I found myself distracted by the outside world, and a tear rolled down my cheek.

'_There's so many wars we've fought, There's so many things we're not, But with what we have, I promise you that, We're marchin' on, We're marchin' on, We're marchin' on.'_

As the song lyrics echoed around the car, the male voice of Ryan Tedder silky smooth as the words and emotion in the song flooded through me causing my heart to clench. I wiped away the tear hastily and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. We're marchin' on indeed.

And as we pulled out of the town centre, I found myself letting out a breath and leaning back in my seat. My eyes closed, letting a pleasant darkness cloud my vision as I tried to clear my thoughts of _him._ I could do this, I kept repeating to myself until my heartbeat was steady and my emotions flat despite the song that still consumed me in waves of sound. I opened my eyes again and looked out at the trees as they flew past, all green and brown. I had once hated the colours that seemed to cover everything in Forks, but now they were a comfort. And I was glad that they were, because they gave me hope. Hope that I would be able to pull through, despite my heart remaining empty. Hope that I would one day be able to face Edward again and tell him that it was ok that he didn't want me. Ok that he had ruined me for all men. Because I would be ok again. It was all I could hope for.

_You are now leaving Forks_.


End file.
